America's Secret
by Nyaphlaire
Summary: All the time England has known America, there has been a secret room that no one is allowed to enter. One day, England sees that the door is unlocked, and decides to investigae. What will he find? NOTE: Not a slash fic. Rated T for mild language.


Even when they had still been close, there had been one place in America's home that England was never allowed to visit. Despite his constant inquiries, America remained evasive in his answers as to why the area was forbidden. His typical response, which annoyed the buggers out of England, was,

"Geez, England, can't you respect a man's privacy?" It was rather aggravating. England was inclined to believe that America was hiding something really damning in that secret area and he wanted to know what it was. It couldn't be sex toys, since America had been hiding it since England had found him, and he had been way too young then to know anything about _that_. But it was obviously something that, as an adult, America still found precious, too precious to trust anybody with. Well, save for his brother, Canada, but France had said something about Canada having known about it all along as well, so, England could figure it had something to do with the two, mysterious countries. And that just made him even more curious, damn it!

And now, now that he finally had established a more friendly relationship with America again, the git still wouldn't let him see it! He gave the same, damn excuse, in fact! England growled, irritated, and stomped into the kitchen to get something to eat. This, of course, meant burgers.

"Does that man have _anything_ else to eat?" he wondered aloud, exasperated. Lithuania laughed softly and shook his head.

"Not really, not unless I make something, or I convince Japan to do it," he murmured. England shook his head with frustration, and stalked out of the kitchen. As he did, he passed by _that_ door, and saw something astonishing; it was unlocked, and partially open. Unable to quench his curiosity, he opened it wider and peeked in.

"What on Earth?" he breathed, astounded. Inside the room was a large garden, with beautiful flowers growing everywhere. Roses flourished under heat lamps and a song bird trilled from somewhere. Mouth agape, England walked in and looked around, trying to register what he was saying.

"Why was he hiding this place?" he asked in amazement. It didn't make any sense to him, really. The garden was beautiful, yes, amazingly so, but nothing to hide, really. In fact, England would have thought that America would have been proud to show the lovely place off.

"It must be hiding something dastardly beneath these beautiful plants…" he murmured, and started walking around the room. He easily noticed a path of stones, leading deep into the room, where his vision was obscured by rose bushes. Considering his options for a second, he nodded and pushed onwards.

After close to ten minutes of walking later, the path opened up to a small clearing. England was stunned. The flowers from earlier had been beautiful, yes, but these, these were perfection. Hydrangeas, Roses, Cherry Blossoms, all a spectacular, yet strange, deep red. They created the edges of the clearing, making a heaven. England was so preoccupied with the beauty of the clearing that he failed to notice what rested in the middle of it until he almost tripped over it. He stopped quickly, looked down, and gave a horrified yell. He quickly stumbled backwards, tripped, and fell on his rear. Sitting there too stunned to move, he stared into the holes that were the eye sockets of his discovery. America had a skeleton in his Secret Garden, and had most likely had it here since England had known him.

"Why on Earth is there a bloody skeleton here?" the older country breathed, shocked. Swallowing back bile threatening to rise in his throat, he crept closer, examining the body. It was actually well taken care of, the bones were clean, and the long black hair was still intact. In fact, the hair looked as though it had been carefully brushed recently. Judging from the hair style, and the facial structure, the skeleton was female, although England wasn't quite sure if that was true. He wasn't exactly an expert on the subject. 'She' was wearing what looked like a dark blue Native American costume, which, judging from how clean it was, had most likely been put on 'her' recently. There were several vases of flowers around her, and on her bosom rested a necklace made of what looked like wolf fangs and beautiful, handcrafted beads. Beside her was a bow, a quiver made of what looked like deer hide, and a crude dagger. England was reaching down to touch the dagger when he heard a startled gasp from behind him. He whirled around to see America standing there, holding a vase of flowers. The two countries stared at each other for a moment before America's face took on an expression England had never seen before; it was one of fury and sorrow.

"England, what are you doing here?" he asked angrily, his voice shaking and the vase slipping from his fingers to land on the flattened grass with a dull, shattering sound.

"W-Well, it was open, a-and so I thought-" England stuttered out

"You thought that you could just walk into a place I've always forbidden you from?" America yelled. England jumped, a little scared of the absolute _fury_ in the younger country's voice.

"America, I-"

"This is a special place! You're not supposed to be here! This is a place for me and Canada, not you, not France, not _anyone_!"

"What the bloody hell, you really expected to keep this a secret? It's a bloody skeleton! What on Earth is a skeleton doing in your home, America?" America froze and stared at England, a blank look settling over his features.

"She's here for a reason, England. Do you really think that's a normal skeleton?" he asked, his voice startling quiet in comparison to earlier. England blinked, not entirely sure what the other was getting at.

"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously. America chuckled, and England was startled to see a few tears spill from the normally overly-cheerful country's blue eyes.

"That is a country. And she's not dead." He gestured to her and England turned to look quickly, green eyes widening with surprise and slight horror as he saw the chest rise ever so slightly.

"Who the bloody hell is she?" He yelped, scrambling away from her quickly. America laughed again, a sound filled with pain and self-loathing.

"She is my mother, Native America. Mine and Canada's, actually, if you wish to go into the details. Yes, we are actually brothers." The younger country walked over and knelt by the skeleton.

"Your mother?" England gasped out.

"Yes. She sacrificed herself to bring us into the world, but she didn't actually die. Her people still live on. That's why I have reservations, you see. So her culture, and therefore her, live on." America looked at him sternly.

"You must tell no one, and I mean _no one_ about this. It's not for the other countries to see. Mother is sleeping, and I don't want her to be disturbed by anyone. You understand?"

"Yes, I understand, but, why is she a skeleton?"

"Oh, that?" America bent down and snatched at the face, removing a strange, grey substance from it and revealing a pretty, tan skinned woman.

"That's my way of freaking out anyone who comes in here that shouldn't, which is mainly my people. But you didn't run away instantly, and you understand, so you can see what she looks like."

"Yes, she's really pretty."

"She sure is."


End file.
